


Cassette: for Freya

by ishouldwritethatdown



Category: Within the Wires (Podcast)
Genre: Character Study, Family, Found Footage, Gen, Goodbyes, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Post-Season/Series 04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:26:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23989597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ishouldwritethatdown/pseuds/ishouldwritethatdown
Summary: Sigrid says goodbye to her mother the only way she can.
Relationships: Freya & Sigrid (Within the Wires)
Kudos: 8





	Cassette: for Freya

SIDE A

I taped over one of your sermons to make this. You might not forgive me, but I hope you understand. I needed you to hear my voice, and this is the only way my words have a chance of reaching you. Maybe this cassette will get broken in the raid. Maybe it will be confiscated by the IID and filed away, never to find your ears. But I hope, someday, you can hear what I have to say.

[she takes a deep breath]

I do not forgive you.

Fifty years ago, Grandma Brigette held her child, held her miracle to her chest and ran for her life. She would not submit to those who wanted to take the baby away from her, not if they told her it was for her own good or the good of the whole world. Because she knew better. She knew that her daughter would have a better life apart from the Society than she would in it. This is the story you used to tell me.

What would Grandma Brigette think of you now?

Time will not soften my resolve. You have not forgotten, I am sure, how stubborn I can be. I am not stubbornly selfish or petty - like a child’s stubbornness - any longer, but I will not change my mind. I cannot forgive you. I cannot forgive you because it would put the people I love in danger.

You taught me how to question authority. To criticise the rules of the world as they were presented to me – I’m sure I tired you out with questions of why the Cradle behaves as it does. As it did. Questions about why we live in tents, about why we shut food into boxes at night, about why children don’t venture out of the camp. But you gave me rational answers, answers that made sense and were practical, and I learned to trust those rules. I learned to distrust any principles I was not allowed to interrogate, anything that I was expected to obey without question.

If I forgive your ringing endorsement of your daughter’s martyrdom, how long before I become callous about my people’s own sacrifices? How long before I expect them to follow me blindly?

You gave up your daughter to the Society. Is it more or less brave because you did it for a cause rather than a complacency to the societal systems in place?

Regardless it is not a matter of bravery, because I am not yours to give away. Motherhood is not ownership. The Cradle is not a possession, it is not a resource or a regime or an institute. The Cradle is a family. Not a cult with a sole leader and all of her children – we are made up of brothers and sisters and siblings, aunts and uncles and avauns, sons and daughters and children, mothers and fathers and parents, nephews and nieces and nespring. Lovers, partners, friends. We are not a monarchy, and I am not your princess. I am Sigrid. I will defend my family, and I will not be your deputy or your damselfly any longer.

I will look after everybody. Please do not worry about us. You taught me how to hide, you taught me how to misdirect. And you taught me how to manage a family, before you forgot what that meant. I know how to delegate, I know how to use our strengths and cover our weaknesses. You won’t find us again. I’ve made sure of it.

Not everybody wanted to leave. I owe it to you to let you know that much. Some of the oldest and newest members resisted when I told them we had to move the camp. People with faith in you, the daughter of the beloved founders. The tape sounded bad, yes – but we must have been misinterpreting, they said. That can’t have been what you meant. You can’t have meant for us to die. But it’s hard to keep making excuses when you use words like _martyr_. We don’t want to be martyrs, Mamma. We want to live in peace. We want to raise our children in peace.

You understand, you must, that their safety is more important than any political agenda. When you started _The Hand_ , it was to give struggling families a place to start. Do you remember? Mrs Rosie Morales who had to leave her husband behind to protect her little girls. She tied him to a tree and never looked back, no matter how much she wanted to.

We will mourn you. We already are. The loss of the leader who loved and guided us for so many years, twisted and corrupted by the Society. I will miss the way you used to sing, idly, while you folded sheets and clothes. I will miss the way you smile when you recognise the call of a bird in the trees. I will even miss the way you used to scold me for rolling my eyes and sighing, because it was part of the picture that made up you.

I love you, Mamma. I don’t forgive you, but I love you. I want you to remember that.


End file.
